Cause & Effect (The Gemini Borders Trilogy Book 3)

by Toni Parks

  “Hey, you. Are you asleep?” “No, I’m not asleep, just thinking and putting my life back in order.”

  “Why, what put it out of order?”

  “Well, I’ve allegedly killed five people. I say allegedly, not because I’m innocent but more because it has not yet been proven. And you won’t be able to use it against me, as a witness.”

  “What, me a witness. I’d rather die. I spit on their laws and rules. But five murders, alleged or not, that’s some going, girl,” said Bonnie.

  “Yes, you make us look like amateurs. Respect,” said Cat.

  “Yeh, well, it was never intentional, I suppose I just snapped,” replied Jessica.

  “Well, we’ve always heard it’s the quiet ones. Look out flies. She might not hurt you but she’ll no doubt kill you,” laughed Bonnie wafting at a bluebottle in her direct line of sight. Cat joined in and Jessica let herself laugh too. She had not laughed for some time and the experience felt good to her, considering the environment and her situation. “By the way, I’m Bonnie and this is Cat,” she continued.

  “Hi, I’m Jess.”

  “OK, Jess. You’re alright. We’ll look out for you whilst you’re with us.”

  “Thanks. That will be good to know. I’ll watch your backs too.”

  “Yeh, thanks but you’re only a slip of …,” Cat was about to say and then recalled what Jess was inside for in the first place.

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE All Emma could think about was Jessica, Barnham and the baby. As Jessica was out of her reach and she would not be able to visit for several weeks, and the baby was the baby, that left good old Barmy Barnham. A sad thought, a happy thought and an enigmatic thought. Would he ever regain his memory? What would be the consequences? Did the prison Jessica resided in have a mother and toddler wing? She had enjoyed herself the day before and at least he had kept her thoughts from drifting back to her former life. And she convinced herself that it was doing him good too, helping with his memory. And then she was full circle; but she bit the bullet all the same. She rang and arranged to meet him on Grassmarket in Edinburgh. That was easy for him to get to and there were plenty of places to eat. She thought that she would have to remind him once she arrived in the city, but no, he was there waiting and what’s more, he recognised her.

  A voice said, “Emma, how wonderful to see you,” with an inference that it had not seen her for some time, and that it was a surprise meeting, but she let it pass and just kissed the mouth of the voice that had spoken.

  “You too, Terry. Do you come here often?” replied Emma jokingly.

  “Eh, no. But didn’t we ..”

  “Only playing with you Terry. Let’s grab a coffee. Are you hungry?”

  “Hungry and thirsty.”

  Nursing her latte as they sat at an outside pavement table enjoying the afternoon sun and watching workers and shoppers go by, Emma decided to confide in Terry. She knew in her heart that the real Terry was hiding in that dumbeddown head of his, but when his memory finally returned, she had no idea on which side of the fence it would sit. Even so, she expressed her concerns. “Terry. I need to talk to you about Jess. I’m really worried about her wellbeing and about the outcome of her trial.”

  “She’s going on trial? I didn’t know.”

  “Doesn’t that DC Blister keep you informed anymore?” she asked, at the same time as picking up her coronation chicken panini.

  “No. Not after that abysmal interview at the airport. He found me more of a hindrance than a help; and I’ve not heard from him since. Some rehabilitation, eh?”

  “Well, you’re never going to get better if you don’t get refamiliarised with situations, are you? And Jess, she’s gone like you now. She’s shrunk into her shell. She wouldn’t say a word to her solicitor. So no one knows what plea she wants to make. When I saw her we had a good chat. But it was more about my problem,” she said, patting her tummy, “than hers. She’s just clamped up in that regard and resigned herself to a long stretch in prison.”

  “What evidence have they got?”

  “Something about DNA on a hankie, that was found on one of the victims.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Why, isn’t that enough?”

  “No, there needs to be corroboration of evidence. Independent evidence that confirms another fact relevant to the case.”

  “What, like Jess having worked on cases at The Borders Agency that involved the first three dead victims?”

  “Yes, exactly that,” said Barnham becoming enthusiastic. “The fact that she knew of the three victims corroborates with her DNA being found on a hankie. Presumably that hankie was on one of the victims?”

  “Yes, I just said that. The first one. I think Amy said it was John Silwith.”

  “John Silwith. Now there’s a name to conjure with. I’m sure I’ve heard that name before. Even before you mentioned it just now, I mean. John Silwith. Yes, he was the first murder victim. Now where was it? Don’t tell me.”

  “I couldn’t, even if I wanted to. I don’t know.”

  “Well I do,” grinned Barnham. “It was down a ravine. His body was found down a ravine in Camptown, just south of Jedburgh”

  “Hey, it’s really coming back now, Terry,” said Emma with a slight concern in her voice, as she thought, ‘what’s he going to remember next’?

  Terry took a long drink on his coolish Americano to celebrate, and said, “Yes, I didn’t seem to have to go searching for it in my head. It was just there; ready to pop out when I needed it. It must be you. You’re a good influence. Same again?”

  On his return Emma steered him off the Jessica subject and gave him a replay of the doctor’s appointment she had made. He had remembered her intimating that it was his baby and he had remembered himself berating her about not taking precautions. But at the end of the update he was proud to be recognised as the father, especially with him now having more time on his hands if he was pensioned out of the force. Emma sipped her latte, made a face at Terry with her moustachioed frothy upper lip and said, “So where do we go from here, Tel?”

  He looked bemused, a look she was quite used to by now, and said, “What right this minute, or do you mean later, like in the future?”

  “Either, or? Both.”

  “Well, as for now I’m enjoying your company and we seem to be getting on OK. And what bit of memory I’ve still got, I seem to remember that we had a good time back then too. What about you? Are you going to go back on the streets?”

  “That depends,” she deliberated, “it depends on whether I get a better offer,” as she kicked his leg under the table. “I don’t need to go back to streetwalking, from a financial point of view. In fact, Jess and I are probably set up for life, not that she’s likely to be able to spend it. I mean there are only so many phone cards you can buy for someone in prison, aren’t there? But I’m on my own now. Jess rescued me; well you may remember that, one day. Anyway, she rescued me and we had a bit of a ball, met my paternal Grandma, an uncle I never knew I had and some other lovely people, and …. and, now I’m lonely and a little bit scared actually. It’s not easy being normal, is it?”

  “So you’d class me as normal,” said Terry pretending to rub his shin. “Me, mister memory man, who had to relearn how to brush his teeth. Do you know, when I was found on that cliff side, I thought for long enough my name was Joe Doe until I saw a picture in the paper of this washed out, puffy faced guy who called himself DI Terry Barnham. That was supposed to be me but I couldn’t believe that I ever looked like that and was certainly never going back to that life. Like you, I’m looking forward and grasping any available opportunity.”

  “So what are you saying? Are you going away?”

  “No I’m not saying that at all. I’m saying that me and the force are most probably over. The union will sort out a pay off as well as my pension and then I’m going to live my life. I’ll sell off the house in Newcastle and start afresh. Just as soon as my memory catches up with the rest of me.”


  “And where do I fit in?”

  “Good question. I see you as a bonus. Not because of your money or anything, but because I like you. You’re fun to be around, great in bed, I think, and you’re having our baby. What more can I say? Oh, and you’ve now loads of money allegedly and a twin who tried to murder me!” These last few words were said in a whisper. He saw the shock on her face as her brain permutated the words he had spoken.

  “Is this some kind of trap? You’re trying to lull me into thinking we can get back together, for the sake of the baby. God, what a cliché! I know I’m the sort of girl that should have lots of tattoos inked over my body but I don’t happen to have one saying ‘STUPID’ across my forehead, do I? Well, do I?”

  “Emma, it’s not like that. Things are coming back to me; you’ll have to accept that. But I’m not judging. I’m definitely leaving the force and I am pissed at how it ended. But I do want to move on and I’m glad we’ve met up again, honest. Just by being you, with or without tattoos, money, babies, you can help me progress and rehabilitate, far quicker than that DC Blister, try as he might. And I do want to help, in whatever way I can. We’re good for each other. Perhaps the knock on the head has turned me into a better person,” he said, still not much above a whisper.

  “And you’re not just saying all this to string me along? To trap me into saying something explosive? Are you wired?”

  “Wired? You’ve been watching too much TV. Who’s going to want to wire up a long in the tooth detective. I mean my mind’s half cooked as it is, so it wouldn’t take many volts from a wire to totally fry me and finish the job off, now would it?”

  Emma looked at him and moved her hand slowly across the table. She caught hold of Barnham’s, and gripped it tightly. “You swear on the baby’s head, you’re doing this for just us two and the baby?”

  “I swear.”

  “And no matter what you remember and when you remember it, it won’t have any bearing on our relationship. And if you can, you promise you’ll try and help Jess, even though she tried to kill you.” It was Emma’s turn to whisper as she held his eyes with a sympathetic look at the thought of the deed both Jessica and she had tried to enact on him.

  “Yes, Em. I’ll use whatever knowledge and experience I can recall to help you in your quest. And don’t be worrying about what I’ll remember in the future.”

  “Why do you say that?” she asked worriedly.

  “Because I already know. It came back at the same time as the Jessica part.”

  “And you’re still sat here! You’ve not hightailed it off to that Blister guy,” she realised her voice had got louder and more shrill, with one or two of the other patrons craning to look their way. Her cocooned security had been punctured as she grasped that the two of them were not alone.

  “Emma, calm down. Think of the baby. It’s true, I’m putting lots of two and two’s together now and they are still making four, well lots of fours actually, but that’s good. I know you attempted to kill me for the love of your sister. I saw in your eyes, that hesitation, and I saw the amount of fluid ejected from the syringe before it got anywhere near me. I couldn’t move my head but the fluid glinted in the moonlight, as clear as day. And my leather trousers helped, no doubt! So that tells me that you didn’t want to kill me but you didn’t want to lose your sister either, having only just found her. So my mind, as crap as it is, thinks, ‘I want some of that commitment’. I want the same power of that love that you so freely bestow on Jessica.”

  Not so concerned anymore about the lookers-on, she rushed around the table and kissed him full on the mouth, “Oh, Tel. I believe you, and I think I can commit too, now. Jess has sorted me out with some hard words about my habits and I’m really trying to keep straight, what with the baby coming and all. She also told me in no uncertain terms to stay away from you, but what the hell! It’s a real weight off my mind. And do you really think you’ll be able to help Jess?”

  “Well, that’s a bit of a tall order, really. I mean five murders,” replied Terry, back to whispering again, “that’s if we’re adding in her office colleague and my former colleague. Five is a big number to brush under the carpet. Especially with three of them, having been found so prominently lying on top of it already. But we have to start somewhere, don’t we?”

  “Well, I’ll show you where we can start. How far is it to your flat?” She said with a cheeky grin.

  “But what about the baby?”

  “Oh, the baby enjoys a little exercise, just like its mama.”

  *

  She had dressed absentmindedly and applied minimal make up without even registering whether she had covered the right areas. Her guts were weak and she felt peaky at best and severely ill at worst. Under that guise she had travelled to work on the rush hour train from Aberdour, north of the estuary, not acknowledging a soul, or reading up on any of her cases. Arriving at her usual time, she slotted into her normal procedure but without any drive, vigour or desire to preserve the Scottish Law and to keep its innocent people safe. And then it rang, not so much as a ring tone but as a death knell summoning the destruction of her family, her career and her reputation.

  “Elspeth Macleod.”

  “Miss Macleod, I rang yester… “

  “Yes, I recognise the voice.”

  “Have you made a decision?”

  Elspeth walked away from her colleagues as she answered,

  “Yes, I have. I will try and help you but only on two conditions.” “We are making the rules now, are we?” replied Eduardo. “But out of courtesy I will listen anyway.”

  “The two conditions are: one this conversation and any future ones never took, or will take, place; and as you said yesterday, there are to be no recordings, unlike the photos. And two: I need a guarantee that you will give me the photos, negatives or digital files and the video originals will be handed over too, for destruction.”

  “You have my word on both counts. No recordings and no copies turning up at a later date. No future embarrassments or blackmail. What do you have for me?”

  Elspeth took a deep breath with a sigh attached to the end, “I am in no position to doctor the DNA sample as it’s already secure in police files, but I can endeavour to turn the remand order over to bail on health grounds. Apparently, Miss Lambert is already showing strong signs of a mental disorder, which Cornton Vale may be able to diagnose but won’t necessarily be able to treat with their already present overcrowding problem. That being the case, she would have to be transported to Rampton in Nottinghamshire. But as she’s due a second Sheriff Court hearing before being committed to her High Court preliminary hearing, I’m sure I’ll be able to keep her in Scotland until at least then. I’ll either bring it forward or convince Cornton Vale that the round trip to Rampton and back is impractical on health grounds, or both. The upshot is that there will be a window in your favour. Do you understand what I am saying?”

  “Perfectly clearly. The bail option is favourite. But failing that we’ll have time to plan an escape during her journey down south. But first things first, I suggest you buy a ‘pay as you go’ phone for future calls. At least that way there won’t be too much incriminating evidence linking you, in case of mishap. Once you have it, text me the number and I’ll ring again tomorrow. Any specific time?”

  “Tomorrow!” she said looking annoyingly at her diary. “I suppose 14.15, is as good a time as any.” ‘If at all,’ she muttered under her breath.

  “OK. 14.15, it is. Don’t forget to text.” And with that, Eduardo was gone and Elspeth started to feel relief. Her mind and body had suffered stress before, in fact was used to it but always in a legal capacity, but never this gnawing kind before. But because it had weighed so heavily, its only option was to lessen and with it came the relief, in her own mind at least, that what she was about to do was not illegal. Even though it was against her better judgment. But she knew that she would pay the price later, in anguish and self-doubt, over a decision not being made in the best judicial and
ethical interests of Scottish Law.

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO What was seemingly going right for one Italian was definitely not the case for another. Francesco had just slammed the door on his father after both had argued over the feud raging between their clan and every other combined gang in and around Aberdeen. Its escalation had almost accelerated as quickly as the fire, which by the way had completely destroyed their drug production facility. And they still had men deployed in exposed areas; who, and which, could so easily become the next targets too. This, in turn, left them at a disadvantage of being on the back foot rather than leading the charge. Francesco still smarting over being outwitted had left the security of the mill complex only to catch sight of a banner floating 200 metres above his head. The unfurled banner jigging merrily and independently; did not make good reading, ‘PRIDE COMES BEFORE A FALL’. Francesco studied it for some time, pondering each word and its ability to remain stable without being blown away, and then spotted the two drones hovering above each end of the banner. If he had had a shotgun on his person he would have blasted them out of the sky but as the mill was supposed to be abandoned and so therefore unoccupied that might have proved a dead giveaway. But the fact that the banner was there in the first place said it all.

  He recalled the argument with Alonzo his father and although he knew he was in the wrong, he had to be right! It had only been yesterday that they had been celebrating, while ‘Rome’ burned, as it turned out. His father had reminded him of the additional wealth that would be coming to them without even lifting a finger. That in itself would give them time to take stock before they made any more rash decisions leading to serious mistakes. ‘Revenge being better as a dish served cold,’ sprang to mind as opposed to his option of charging in hastily, which would inevitably only lead to more deaths. But he could not accept the fact that all their hard work had just gone up in smoke. Ironically, a lot of their hard work was meant to do just that, but usually at an inflated profit. The audacity of McLaughlin to drive right up to one of their places of work and blow it to smithereens. And now they were crowing about it, right over his head. ‘If they are expecting a response they will certainly get it,’ he thought shaking his fist at the sky. He had planned to take the trip to Zurich himself to check out the newfound money, but now his father had ordered him to source replacement supplies for all the hard drugs and the cannabis, lost in the blaze. He had been frightened to tell his father of the number of hardened junkies who had turned up at the height of the fire, sniffing the pungent air in the hope of a free high. And now their dealers were urgently looking for fresh stock to complete their weekly rounds, and considering the prospect of collecting from further afield or buying from the competition, if their own resources dried up totally, and even contemplating drastically cutting, and so weakening, the end street product so as to make what little they had go further.